Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2007 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/criticalexaminatOOmoncrich ■CK^ A CRITICAL EXAMINATION •M. COUSIN'S LECTURES ON LOCKE. A\qLLIAM II. S. MOiNCK, A.B. SCIENCE SUHOLAU AXD FIRST GOLD MEDALMST IN LOGICS AND ETHIC.-i. TKINITY COLLKGE, DUBLIN. PART I V^ OF THl"^; DUBLIN: WILLIAM M^GEE, 18, NASSAU-STREET. LONDON: LONGMAN, GREEN, LONGMAN & ROBERTS. 1862. /37^.9V N(^ Pl-?^ DUBLIN : 6 & 7, CHEAT BUUNSWICK KTHEET. PREFACE More than four years ago, the author of the present treatise read a paper before the Undergraduate Philo- sophical Society on " M. Cousin's Criticism of Locke," in which most of the views here advocated were main- tained. He cannot, therefore, be censured for rushing into print without having sufficiently matured his views, and considered the justice of them ; while, at the same time, the present essay is so enlarged, that the original paper forms but a small fraction of its contents. Its object may be briefly explained. For some time past M. Cousin's lectures on Locke have formed a portion of the Undergraduate Course in this University, and it is impossible to deny tliat they are, in many respects, suited for this purpose. M. Cousin's style is at once clear, lucid, and elegant, conveying the most profound distinctions in philosophy in language almost wholly free from the crabbed techni- calities of the schoolman or the Kantian. It attracts the youthful student, where a greater affectation of philosophical precision would only repel him ; but it attiacts without substituting imagination for reflec- tion, or leaving the facts of consciousness to soar among the clouds. Nor can it be denied that it embodies much of what is valuable in modern philo- 4 rUEFACE. sophy since the time of Locke ; and if the highest object of the metaphysician be to teach " 'ov (piXoao^ia aWa 0f\o(7o0eii/," M. Cousin certainly possesses, in no ordinary degree, the power of setting his readers a-thinking ; nor should we forget the high reputation of the lecturer, and the somewhat lavish encomiums bestowed on his work by the highest philosophical authorities in the United Kingdom. But to these great merits are joined still greater defects. If the work of M. Cousin embodies almost all that is solid in the philosophy of Locke's opponents, it overlooks almost every important truth that is inculcated in the Essay on the Human Understanding — if it is of great value as a philosophical treatise, as a criticism it is, I apprehend, absolutely worthless — if the author is thoroughly acquainted with the philosophy which he advocates, he is utterly ignorant of that which he undertakes to refute ; while in his eagerness to subvert the real or imagined doctrines of Locke, he is not unfrequently betrayed into assertions most damaging to himself, and indeed to all true philosophy. It is therefore, I think, of no small importance that these defects should be thoroughly exposed, and that the youthful student, when about to profit by what is sound in these lectures, should be provided with an antidote against what is unsound. The general dissatisfaction with which M. Cousin's criticisms have been regarded for some years past in this University may seem to render the task which I have undertaken almost a superfluous one ; but that dissatisfaction has as yet scarcely found its appropriate expression in PRE FACE. print, and the student is still left to be carried away at first by the eloquence, ingenuity, and authoritative manner of the critic, and then gradually to discover the series of errors and misrepresentations which runs through these lectures on Locke, and perhaps not to discover some of them at all ; while a complete and detailed vindication is no less due to the memory of Locke, whose immortal essay has, here at least, never lost its authority. The only work 1 am acquainted with which seems to preoccupy the ground I purpose ^-^ taking, is Dr. Webb's very able essay on the Intel- S/.r, even in space and duration, when the mind pursues the idea of infinity, it then makes use of the ideas and repetitions of numbers — as of millions of millions of miles or years — which are so many dis- tinct ideas, kept by number, from running into a con- fused heap wherein the mind loses itself" (Ps. pp. 156, 157). Now, in the first place, the " many con- tradictions" here, are, like their predecessors, wholly imaginary ; and if M. Cousin had read the passage to which he refers about the infinity of God, he would have seen that Locke said there, that finite and infi- nite were properly modes of quantity, and are attri- buted to God primarily, in respect of his duration and ubiquity, and only secondarily and figuratively, in respect to his other attributes (Book II. xvii. 1). But, in the second place, to say that number gives us the clearest idea of infinity, is not to resolve the infinite into number, for it rather implies that some- thing else also gives us an idea of infinity, which is not so clear ; and this is precisely the doctrine of Locke. But, in the third place, if the last pas- sage quoted from Locke be his reason, and his only reason for saying that number gives us the clearest idea of infinity, as the critic would lead us to believe ; then it is plain, that it only makes 88 clearer onS element of the idea of infinity, that is the positive element ; whereas the relative ele- ment " wherein the infinity consists'^ may not only be given, but given with equal clearness by something else besides number. But there are worse mis- takes still to come. " What," asks the critic, " is number ?" and he answers, " it is the last analysis, such or such a number, for every number is a deter- minate number, it is then a finite number ; whatever it may be, and as high as you please''^ (Ps. p. 157). But suppose no finite number be as high as I please. However let us go on. " The reduction of the infinite to number, is then the reduction of time infinite, to its measure indefinite or finite" (Ibid). " Indefinite or finite !" Why, I thought every number was in the last analysis " a finite number, whatever it may be, and as high as I pleased." Now it turns out to be indefinite or finite ! But the critic's definition of the indefinite gets over this difficulty ; for he tells us that the indefinite is the finite multiplied by itself (Ps. p. 153), according to which definition every square number will be indefinite, since it results from multiplying a finite number by itself. But let us examine the conditions which M. Cousin attaches to infinity of number. If every number that is such or such a number — that is a determinate number — that is a definite number — be, ipso facto, finite ; then to have an infinite number it would be necessary that it should not be such or such a number, but that it should be indeterminate, indefinite. And is not this to fall into very confusion of the infinite and indefinite, * The statement that Locke resolyes the infinite into some deter- minate and finite number, is not easily reconcilable with the previous statement that it is purely negative and has nothing positive in it. 89 with which the critic unjustly accuses Locke ? How- ever he is wholly wrong as to the sense in which Locke says that number gives us the clearest idea of infinity. This will appear from the paragraph imme- diately following that which M. Cousin has quoted, but which, with his usual artifice, he has dexterously suppressed. " When it" (the mind) " has added together as many millions, &c. as it pleases, of known lengths of space or duration, the clearest idea it can get of infinity is the confused incomprehensible remainder of endless addihle numbers^ which affords no prospect of stop or of boundary" (BookIL xvii. 19). This is how number " gives us the clearest idea of inlSnity," and I appeal to any man of common sense if this be reducing the idea of the infinite to a deter- minate number. Why did M. Cousin suppress this passage ? It, in fact, forms the last clause of the sentence, on the first clause of which he has built his preposterous charge ; and the matter is made worse by not only omitting the clause in which Locke explains how number gives us the clearest idea of infinity ; but, by retaining the "/<9r," which properly applies to it, and interpreting it as if it belonged to the first, not the last, clause of the sentence. But the critic's conclusion is rendered yet more preposterous, because Locke has already clearly explained the difference between infinity of number and infinite number ; and, while affirming that we have an idea of the former, has denied that we have any idea of the latter. " How clear soever,'' says he, " this idea of infinity of number be, there is nothing yet more evident than the absurdity of the actual idea of an infinite number. Whatever positive ideas we have in our minds of any space, duration or G 90 number, let them be ever so great, they are still finite; hut when we suppose an inexhaustible remainder^ there we have our idea of infinity'' (Book 11. xvii. 8 ; see, too, xvi. 8). But though, this " endless addibility of number," affords us the clearest idea of infinity, it does not afford us the only one. On the contrary, the very idea of space leads us ^' necessarily to conclude it to be actually infinite" (Book TI., xvii. 4). M. Cousin's criticism, therefore, breaks down on all sides, and we may pass to the next idea on our list, that of personal identity. The chief cause of controversy with respect to this question is, that critics have not taken sufficient pains to ascertain precisely w^hat Locke means by the term " person ;" and this is the more inexcusable, because Locke has warned them in the outset that this is the principal thing they have to attend to.* When Locke has stated, at the very beginning of his discussion, that it is one thing to be the same substance^ another to be the same man, and a third to be the same person^ we must not, surely, take it for granted that he means the same thing by all three terms, or by any two of them (Book IL xxvii. 7 ). Nor was the term " person" used in the time of Locke in the same fixed and precise sense that it is now (on its various meanings in former times see Archbishop Whately's note in the appendix to his logic), and we have consequently no means of ascer- taining the exact meaning in which Locke uses it, without recurring to his own explanation of the term in his chapter on Identity and Diversity. This being premised, " to find wherein personal * " That which has made the difficulty about this relation has been the little care and attention used in having precise notions of the things to which it is attributed" (Book II., xxvii. 1). 91 identity consists," says Locke, '^ we must consider what person stands for, which, I think, is a thinking intelligent being, that has reason and reflection, and can consider itself as itself^ the same thinking thing in different times and places ; which it does only by that consciousness which is inseparable from thinking^ and as it seems to me essential to it, it being impos- sible for any one to perceive, without perceiving that he does perceive. When we hear, smell, taste, feel, meditate or will anything, we know that we do so. Thus, it is always as to our present sensations and per- ceptions ; and by this everyone is to himself that which he calls self, it not being considered in this case whether the same self be continued in the same or divers sub- stances'^ (Book II. xxvii. 9). And the same view of the person is consistently maintained throughout the chapter. It is on this account that Locke says " con- sciousness makes personal identity" (Book II. xxvii. 10) ; for, " it is consciousness that makes a man be himself to himself ^^ " it is by the consciousness that the mind has of its present thoughts and actions that it is self to itself now'' (Ibid). It is that " whereby I am myself to myself' (Book 11. xxvii. 24), etc. From this point of view, Locke is undoubtedly correct in placing personal identity in consciousness. If I have forgotten any of my actions, so as to be unable, by any effort, to recover the memory of it, I am not to myself the person who did it, though I may be so to every one else. I do not impute it to myself — I do not hold myself accountable for it — I am to myself as if I had never done it. If, on the other hand, my present consciousness falsely appropriates to me an action which I did not do, I am still to myself the person who did it, though I may not be so to any one 92 else — nay, though every one else may be aware that the action was never committed at all ; nor would this imputation cease, even if I were persuaded that my substance or my body had changed since I com- mitted the action. Thus Locke tells us that " person," or rather " self," is " a forensic term appropriating actions and their merit" (Book II. xxvii. 26) ; but it is consciousness that appropriates actions and their merit to us, and, therefore, personal identity is placed in consciousness. Locke's meaning, then, in placing personal identity in consciousness is easily ascertained. He does not hold that personality consists in conscious- ness — for personality consists in the distinct existence of a " rational heing'^ — but personal identity consists in consciousness, because, as the sameness of a plant or an animal consists in a participation in the same life and organization, though the material particles which participate in it may vary from time to time, so a number of different rational beings would constitute the same person, if they successively participated in the same self-consciousness. By this theory Locke thinks he has placed our moral responsi- bility beyond the reach of being questioned, even by those who doubt whether their souls may not have changed since the acts, which are now appropriated to them by consciousness, took place ; because it is this very consciousness that makes them proper subjects for reward and punishment. Into the merits of this theory it is beyond my province to enter. I will only say that it is very ingenious, and has been copied without acknowledgment by many later writers on psychology ; and in fact it differs more in appearance than reality from the generally received doctrine that we must accept the immediate testimony of conscious- 93 ness, before any deductions of the speculative reason ; for consciousness immediately affirms that we did this or that act, and no one can aim at more than a de- monstration that we are not really the identical beings who performed it. And however absurd it may be to question the unity or identity of the soul, it may still be of advantage to philosophy to show that no speculative scepticism on these points can free the sceptic from moral obligation. But I must pass on to M. Cousin. He commences as usual with an enquiry — " Is the idea of personal identity found or not found in the human understanding ? Let every one answer for himself. Is there any one who doubts his personal identity, who doubts that he is the same to-day he was yesterday, and will be to-morrow?" (Ps. p. 157.) *' The same " what ? Does the critic mean the same man, or the same substance, or the same person ? He is apparently unaware of the distinction which Locke has drawn between these three terms, and speaks throughout his criticism as if they were (in the sys- tem of Locke) of the very same import. He refutes Locke's doctrine without examining what it is — or rather, in direct contradiction to the distinction of Locke, he identifies " person " with " mental sub- stance ;' for he tells us, in commencing his next criticism, that the idea of substance is " a generali- zation from the fact we have just been discussing" (Ps. p. 162). This mistake as to the nomenclature of Locke, prevents a serious collision between that philosopher and his critic, for throughout they are speaking of a different identity. Notwithstanding this, however, the criticism is by no means free from additional misrepresentations. Locke is censured for 94 not mentioning memory as well as consciousness, as the chronological condition of our idea of personal identity ; the fact is, that besides stating that the consciousness he speaks of is " a present representation of a past action," Locke has mentioned memory in ex- press terms more than once (see Ps. p. 159, and Essay, Book II. xxvii. 13, 24, 27). A still more serious error is his charge against Locke of confounding per- sonality with consciousness ; as for instance, when he says, " Deep sleep, lethargy, which is a species of sleep, reverie, intoxication, or passion, which frequently de- stroy the consciousness, and of course the memory must not only destroy the sense or feeling of existence, but existence itself'^ (Ps. p. 160). " Any one who has badly measured by memory the time of his existence, has really had less oi existence (Ps. p. 161); and see a longer passage on the same page ; while finally, he says it was necessary in the system of Locke " to destroy the idea of personal existence^ by confounding it with the phenomena which reveal it" (Ps. p. 162). This charge is, perhaps, not made with his usual clearness ; for, obvious as the distinction is, M. Cousin appears to have confounded personality, or personal existence^ with personal identity; i.e. the identity of a personal being existing now, with another existing previously. The very title of Locke's chapter should have corrected the critic here; for it has no relation to personality or per- sonal existence at all. It is simply " of identity and diversity," and " personal identity " is merely discussed as a particular kind of identity ; and if the critic had looked at Locke's remarks on the necessity of the principle of identity being suited to the idea (Book II. xxvii. 7, etc.), he would have seen that Locke's definition of the term "person," was such as to compel 95 him to place personal identity in consciousness. At all events, that philosopher did not place personality in consciousness, or confound personal substance with its phenomena, for he holds that we know *^ more certainly " the existence of a " spiritual being within us," than even the existence of objects of sense without (Book II. xxiii. 15). This criticism is therefore as valueless as its predecessors, so that we may pass on to the idea of substance.* Locke's views with regard to the idea of substance, we have already incidentally expounded in treating of the true nature of the faculty of comparison ; when we found that it was composed of the general indeter- minate idea of something, or being with the relation of a support to accidents — a relation which the mind found itself compelled to superadd to the data of ex- perience ; for the ideas of " qualities, actions and powers," are " perceived by the mind to be by them- selves inconsistent with existence, and hence the mind perceives their necessary connexion with inherence, or being supported," which is " a relative idea super- added to the red color in a cherry or thinking in a man " (Note to Book II. ii. 2). Then (as in the case of infinity, wliere the mind, having got the idea of the finite, and the relation of greater which the infinite bears to it in all its forms, framed to itself an idea of the infinite correlative, so here) the mind having got the idea of phenomenon, and of the relation of being supported, frames to itself the correlative idea of something related to the phenomenon as a supporter, * I have treated of this question at less length, because M. Cousin does not quote a single passage to prove that Locke con- founded personal existence with consciousness ; nor am I aware of any passage which could even give a coloi_ though in both cases we know nothing of this " some- thing," except the relation which it bears to the term . that is positively known. Although, therefore, no / substance may fall directly under the eye of experience, yet Locke can legitimately maintain the existence of the idea, because he transcends experience by means of the faculty of comparison to which he has assigned an originative power. So much for Locke. Let us now turn to M. Cousin. He commences by telling us that substance is a generalization from the fact of personal identity^ which he has just been discussing, which I think more than questionable, as it appears to me that the idea of iden- tity does not necessarily enter into that of substancaj at all. He proceeds to tell us that the idea of sub-l stance is not given by sense or consciousness (Ps. p. 163), and therefore he concludes that there can be no such idea in the system of Locke. In proof of this !he quotes Locke's assertion, that this idea is one " which we neither have nor can have by sensation or re- flection " (Book I. iv. 1 8) ; and on this sole ground he asserts thaT^TLocke systematically denies the idea of substance" (Ps. p. 164). Now, even supposing this passage to imply that we have no idea of sub- stance, the critic's assertion is far too strong, since to deny the idea of substance in a single isolated passage (which is not in his official chapter on the subject), is not to deny it ^^ systematically J^ This might be said even were there no evidence to produce on the other side, whereas M. Cousin himself tells us in the next sentence — " Unquestionably many passages might be cited, in which he unconsciously admits it " (Ibid.). If so, I think it can scarcely be said that he systematically denies it. But in the second 97 place, he only denies the existence of the idea, if he held, in the most rigid sense, that all our ideas, simple or complex, are acquired by sensation or reflection ; for otherwise he might deny that we have or can have the idea from sense or reflection, and yet maintain that we have it otherwise. And this is precisely what he does maintain. This will appear by merely comparing the passage before us with another which I have already quoted. " The idea of substance i we neither have nor can have by sensation or reflec-f tion" (Book I. iv. 18). "I never said that the general idea of substance comes in by sensation or reflection, or that it is a simple idea of sensation or reflec- tion ; FOR it is a complex idea, made up of the general idea of something or being, with the relation of a sup- port to accidents" (Note to Book 11. ii. 2) ; and he goes on to show that both elements are " creatures and inventions of the understanding" (Ibid). Locke then, instead of systematically denying, systematically affirms the existence of the idea of substance. " But," cries the critic, " he openly repels it, in one place as of little use in philosophy, in another as obscure" (Ps. p. 164). Does " he openly repels if^ mean " he openly denies it" ? If so, the two clauses of this passage are contradictory, for that which does not exist is neither clear or obscure, neither of little nor of much use in philosophy. But if " he openly repels it," does not mean this, what does it mean ? It is cer- tainly anything but precise philosopical language. " Locke, however," repeats the critic, " everywhere repels the idea of substance, and when he officially explains it, he resolves it into a collection of simple ideas of sensation or reflection'' (Ps. p. 165). This is certainly a strange process on the part of Locke. He 98 first systematically denies the existence of the idea in toto ; then he proceeds officially to analyse this non- entity into a collection of simple ideas of sensation or reflection ! But we have already seen that Locke does neither. He admits the existence of the idea and he resolves it, not into a collection of simple ideas, but into two complex ideas, an abstract some- thing and a relation of a support to accidents. It is worth while, however, to examine the arguments which M. Cousin brings forward in favour of his second charge, that Locke officially resolves the idea of substance into a collection of simple ideas of sensa- tion or reflection. The charge of denying the exist- ence of the idea is, I should hope, sufficiently refuted. First then, the chapter which M. Cousin quotes is not, to use his phrase, " official," for it is not on the idea of substance at all. Locke has divided complex ideas into modes, substances^ and relations (Rook 11. xii. 4), and in the chapter before us Locke considers one of these classes of complex ideas, viz. (as the title of the chapter informs us) " our complex ideas of substances'^ (Book IL xxiii.) ; and M. Cousin^s mistake in taking this for a chapter on our idea of substance is the more inexcusable, because Still in gfleet had fallen into the same misapprehension and had been corrected by Locke himself. " That I was not speaking," says Locke, " of the general idea of sub- stance in the passage your lordship quotes, is manifest from the title of that chapter, which is * of the complex ideas oi substances' ^^ (Note to Book IL ii. 2). It is on this mistake, however, that M. Cousin's criticism is based, for none of the passages which he quotes, even when taken alone, could mean any- thing more than that our complex ideas of substances 99 consist of collections of their qualities. Moreover, Locke's definition of substances is alone sufficient to show that the idea of substance is not a collection of simple ideas, but one of the members of the collection ■which form our complex ideas of substances. " The ideas of substances," says he, " are such combinations of simple ideas as are taken to represent distinct particular things, subsisting by themselves, in which the sup- posed or confused idea of substance is always ^r5^ and chief ^^ (Book 11. xii. 6, and see his examples there). With this preface I proceed to the quotations by which M. Cousin seeks to establish his charge placing the original and the portions quoted in parallel columns. Locke's Essay, Book II. xxiii. Section 3. " It is the ordinary qualities observable in iron or a diamond put together, that make the complex ideas of those substan- ces, which a smith or a jeweller commonly knows better than a philosopher; who, whatever sub- stantial forms he may talk of, has no other idea of those sub- stances than what is framed by a collection of those simple ideas which are to be found in them ; only we must take notice, that our complex ideas of substances, besides all those simple ideas they are made up of, have always the confused idea of something to which they belong and in which they subsist."* Book II. xxiii. 6. " Whatever, therefore, be the secret abstract nature of sub- M. Cousin's Quotations there- from. First Quotation. . . . . " No other idea of substances than what is framed by a collection of simple ideas ?" (These connecting dots are taken from M. Cousin. It will be seen that by means of them he con- nects two paragraphs separated by more than two sections in the original.) * The sequel of this passage is even more distinct. 100 stance in general, all the ideas we have of particular sorts of substances are nothing but seve- ral combinations of simple ideas, co-existing in such (though un- known) cause of their union as to make the whole subsist of itself. Second Quotation. It is by such combinations of " It is by such simple ideas, and nothing else, that we represent particular sorts of substances to ourselves. . . . Every one frames in his mind a combination of those simple ideas he has usually ob- served or perceived to exist together ; all which he supposes to rest in, and be, as it were, adhere7tt to that unknown com- mon subject, which adheres not in anything else^ combinations of simple ideas, and nothing else, that we re- present particular sorts of sub- stances to ourselves." Book II. xxiii. 37. *' All our ideas of the several sorts of substances are nothing but collections of simple ideas, with a supposition of some- thing to which they belong and in which the subsist, though of this something we have no clear distinct idea at all." Third Quotation. (This passage is quoted in full, and correctly.) Criticism on the above. " Locke everywhere repels the idea of substance, and when he oflScially explains it, he re- solves it into a collection of simple ideas of sensation or of reflection"! (Ps. p. 165.) A mere inspection of these passages will, I have no doubt, convince my reader that Locke neither ignores the idea of substance nor resolves it into a collection of simple ideas of sensation or reflection. Indeed the passage last quoted by the critic himself is absolutely inconsistent with such a view, unless, after his usual 101 custom, we translate " no clear and distinct idea" by " no idea at all ;" and even then it will be our ideas of substances, not our idea of substance, which is re- solved into a collection of simple ideas. But fortu- nately we have Locke's own commentary on some of the expressions quoted, and I think it will be found quite decisive of the point in dispute. Stillingfleet having taken exception to a passage in this chapter, as implying that our idea of substance is " a compli- cation of many ideas together " — which is the very same objection that M. Cousin has now alleged against the same chapter — Locke replies as follows : — " That I was not speaking of the general idea of substance in the passage your lordship quotes is manifest from the title of that chapter, which is ' Of the complex ideas of substances ;' . . . so that in this paragraph I only gave an account of the idea of distinct substances, such as oak, elephant, iron, &c., how they are made up of distinct complications of modes, yet they are looked on as one idea, called by one name, as making distinct sorts of substances. But that my notion of substance in general is quite different from these^ and has no such combination of simple ideas in it, is evi- dent from the immediate following words, where I say, ' the idea of pure substance in general is only a supposition of we know not what support of such qualities as are capable of producing simple ideas in us.' And these two 1 plainly distinguish all along, PARTICULARLY WHERE I SAY, ' Whatever, therefore, be the secret and abstract nature of substance in general, all the ideas we have of particular distinct substances are nothing but several combinations of simple ideas co-existing in such (though unknown) cause of their union as makes the whole subsist of itself" (First 102 Letter to Stillingfleet ; Note to Book 11. xxiii. 1). The reader will probably have observed that the last quotation is from the very section — almost the very paragraph — that M. Cousin cites to prove that Locke held the direct contrary of what he himself quotes the passage to establish ! It will be found in the second quotation pp. 99-LOO of this Essay, with M. Cousin's interpretation set down in the opposite column. This, too, is the uniform doctrine of the Essay. It is by means of this idea of substance that he distinguishes complex modes from complex ideas of substances (see Book II. cap. xii.) — a distinction the very foundation of which would be cut away if Locke resolved our general idea of substance into a collection of qualities. And in the only section of that work in which the general idea of substance is professedly discussed it is explicitly reduced to a relation — " If any one will examine himself concerning his notion of pure sub- stance in general, he will find he has no other idea of it at all but only a supposition of he knows not what support of such qualities as are capable of producing simple ideas in us. . . . The idea, then, we have, to which we give the general name substance, being nothing but the supposed, but unknown, support of those qualities we find existing, which we imagine cannot subsist, sine re substa7ite, without something to support them, we call that support substantial ; which, according to the true import of the word, is, in plain English, standing under or upholding ^^ (Book 11. xxiii. 2). It would be idle to follow M. Cousin far- ther in his criticism, or to examine the absurd conse- quences which he deduces from a doctrine which is no more Locke's than his own. But it may not be amiss to observe, in conclusion, that Locke has ac- 103 knowledged not only the idea but also the principle of substance, not in its logical formula, but in its internal energy. (See First Letter to Stillingfieet ; Notes to Book TI. ii. 2, xxiii. 2, and Book lY. iii. 6 ; also Essay, Book II. xxiii. 4, the section whose title M. Cousin has quoted for a very different purpose.) Finally he accepts the statement of Stillingfieet, who says that " the idea of substance is grounded on plain and evident reason^^ which he considers quite consis- tent with his own view of the subject (Note to Book II. ii. 2) ; and the only correction which he would probably make in M. Cousin's phraseology is, that in- stead of the vague and indefinite term "reason" he would substitute, for the (logical) origin of the idea, the more precise and definite expression, " the intel- lectual faculty of comparison." We have next to consider another very important relation — that of cause and effect ; and here I must make a few prefiitory remarks before examining the criticism of M. Cousin. In the first place, it is plain that experience must inform us of the existence of the ideas or objects between which the relation exists. For example, if experience had not informed us of the exist- ence of heat and of fire, we should never have come to regard fire as the cause of heat, or heat as the effect of fire.* Again, it is generally admitted, that even when experience has supplied us with the two ideas between which this relation exists, the relation itself is not immediately perceived. We might have felt heat, and have seen fire, and yet not know that the latter had produced the former ; as would certainly * We might, however, conclude from the mere observation of fire, that it had some cause, as Locke would have willingly allowed. 104 be the case, if we had felt the heat when no fire was visible, and seen the fire at such a distance as not to feel the heat of it. We must, therefore, take a second element from experience ; we must observe the successions of phenomena, and this not merely once but frequently ; for, if we had observed but once that heat followed from fire, we could not regard these phenomena as cause and efiect ; since, in every case, many phenomena besides the fire had anteceded the heat, and we could not know, without a further appeal to experience to which of the antecedents the conse- quent was due. Lastly, every one is probably aware, that the laws of causation are far better known in the material world, than in the phenomena of mind, besides which these laws attract our notice more strongly in the former case than in the latter. A philosopher, therefore, in illustrating this relation will naturally select the related ideas from sensation, rather than reflection, as I have preferred fire and heat to two ideas, or two emotions of the mind. All this is very trite and simple, and yet it suffices to overturn the whole criticism of M. Cousin. He begins by saying, that " Locke commences by investigating the origin of the idea of cause, and without hesitation refers it^ to sensation." (Ps. p. 169). I need scarcely repeat that no complex idea is referred by Locke to either sensation or reflection ; and that as a relation^ this complex idea of cause is necessarily referred to the faculty oi comparison. As such a relation, too, it is an idea " not of things as they are in themselves," but one of those which the mind " gets from their comparison, one with another" (BookIL XXV. 1, 11) ; though it " is concerned about" simple ideas, either of sensation or reflection, and_5(? 105 " terminates in them." But it is necessary to examine the passage which M. Cousin quotes in proof of his charge, in order to show that not only is Locke guiltless of such a strange inconsistency as referring a relation to sensation^ and therefore classing it among simple ideas, but also that he has not made this rela- tion " terminate in," and be " concerned about" ideas of sensation only. The passage, as quoted by M. Cousin, reads as follows : — " Of cause and effect — whence their ideas got. In the notice that our senses take of the constant vicissi- tudes of things^ we cannot but observe that several particular, both qualities and substances, begin to exist, and that they receive this their 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 general name, cause — 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 the fluidity of icax^ the cause of it, and fluidity the effect. So, finding that the substance wood, which is a collec- tion of simple ideas so called, by the application of fire is turned into another substance, called ashes, that is another complex idea, consisting of a collection of simple ideas quite different from that complex idea which we call wood, we consider fire in relation to ashes as the cause, and ashes as the effect H aving thus, from what our senses are able to dis- cover in the operation of bodies one on another, got the notion of cause and effect ..." (Book II. xxvi. H 106 ], 2). "This," says the critic, "is positive — the idea of cause has its origin in sensation" (Ps. p. 170). That in this passage the idea of cause is not de- scribed as an idea of sensation (that is, a simple idea of sensation — for once again, there is no complex idea of sensation in Locke) is, I think, very manifest; for it is plainly described not as a simple idea, but as a relation between simple ideas. Nor does this relation exist between simple ideas of sensation only, as is evident from the generality of Locke's exposition; for he has here told us, that "that which produces any simple or complex ideas we denote by the general name, cause;" and if his examples are drawn from the material world, we have seen that this is only what we might have anticipated. But, my reader has probably begun to suspect by this time, that where M. Cousin leaves blanks (as in this passage) there is something of importance suppressed. And so it is. The paragraph which occupies the place of the first blank in this passage is alone sufficient to prove, both that Locke did not place this idea in experience, but in the region of the pure intellect, and also, that he did not confine its sphere of appli- cation to simple ideas of sensation. " So, that," says Locke, in this very remarkable paragraph, " whatever is considered hy us to conduce or operate to the pro- ducing of ANY particular simple idea or collection of simple ideas, whether substance or mode, which did not before exist, hath thereby, in our minds^ the relation of a cause, and is so denominated by us." Nor is the paragraph corresponding to M. Cousin's second blank of little consequence, since it explains what the idea of cause is, which we have thus got " from what our senses are able to discover in the 107 operation of bodies one on another; ^;^V.," continues Locke, " that a cause is that which makes any other thing, either simple idea, substance, or mode, begin to be, and an effect, that which had its beginning from some other thing" The generality of these expres- sions is surely sufficient, even if we had no further evidence, to prove that Locke did not intend to con- fine this relation to simple ideas of sensation or their combinations; so that, when quoted in their entirety, the very sections on which M. Cousin bases his criti- cism are sufficient to refute it. But besides extend- ing the relation to ideas of reflection, these passages place the relation itself, not in experience, but in a consideration or comparison of the mind, as the passage first omitted by M. Cousin places beyond a doubt. And not only so, but Locke has freely admitted that the relation itself is not the object of experience. " To have the idea of cause and effect," says he, " it suffices to consider any simple idea or substance as beginning to exist by the operation of some other, without knowing the manner of that operation " (Book IL xxvi. 2; see also. Book IL xxi. 1). It is the change of perceivable ideas only which the senses attain. The relation between the idea which we call the cause and that which we call the effect, is not the object of sense or of experience, but is superadded by the faculty of comparison. And in fact, M. Cousin no sooner says that Locke finds the origin of this idea in sensation, than he so far recedes from his position as to tell us that Locke does not pretend that the senses show us anything more than the suc- cession of one idea to another (Ps. p. 170) ; which is quite true. But then it in reality surrenders his objection that Locke without hesitation refers the idea 108 to sensation (Ps. p. 169) ; for ignoring the office of the higher faculty of comparison, the critic is now obliged to maintain that Locke reduces the idea of causation to that of succession (Ps. pp. 170-171). But surely the critic must have known that the idea of succession was not one which Locke could " without hesitation" refer to " sensation^ It is first enumerated among simple ideas " ^o^A of sensation and reflection" (Book IT. vii. 1, 9),'Where, however, Locke says "that, though suggested by our senses," it is " more constantly offered to us by what passes in our minds." This latter assertion Locke expands in his chapter on duration, pointing out that " we have our idea of succession" chiefly, if not wholly, " from reflection on the train of our ideas" (Book II. xiv. 3, 4, etc.) ; and what is more, this part of Locke's theory has been noticed, with special approbation, by the critic himself (Ps. pp. 149-150). What M. Cousin, therefore, regards as the same criticism of Locke, is in reality two inconsistent criticisms ; for if that philosopher refers the idea of cause to sensation, he cannot reduce it to succession ; and if he reduces it to succession, by doing so he refers it either to both sensation and reflec- tion or to reflection alone. M. Cousin, however, makes choice of the latter criticism ; and passing by the supposed origin in sensation, he proceeds to prove that succession is not causation. As Locke would never have dreamt of disputing this fact, it is unneces- sary to follow the critic in his proof, although much of it is very exceptionable, and would admit of easy refutation. I ought, perhaps, to remind the reader that the critic has already charged Locke with confounding succession with time, so that the present confusion would involve the confusion of time with 109 causation — a result which I have not been able to discover in the Essay on the Human Understanding, Having completed his proof, however, and having repeated his charge of contradiction against Locke, M. Cousin proceeds to make a new attack on that philoso- pher. " I have already cited," says he, " the positive passage (Book Il.cap.xxvi.) in which Locke derives the idea of cause from sensation. Well, now let us turn over a few pages, and we shall find him forgetting both his fundamental assertion, and the particular ^.x^amj?/^^, all physical, produced to justify it ; and concluding, to the great astonishment of the attentive reader, that the idea of cause no longer comes from sensation, but from sensation or reflection : ' in which and all other cases, we may observe, that the notion of cause and effect has its rise from ideas of sensation or reflection, and that this relation, how comprehensive soever, ter- minates at last in them^ " (Book II. xxvi. 2 ; Ps. pp. 178, 179). I think I have shown from the "positive passage" itself, and still more from its context, that the attentive reader need not have been so much sur- prised at finding that the relation of cause and effect sometimes " had its rise from" ideas of reflection, and "terminated in" them ; and if the reader had been inattentive enough to suppose that Locke reduced causation to succession, he ought to have been greatly astonished if he found that it did not do so. But M. Cousin cries out, " This ' or* ' is nothing less than a new theory. Hitherto Locke had not said a word about reflection'' (Ps. p. 179). This last assertion could scarcely have been made by an attentive reader of Locke ; for the words with which that philosopher introduces his subject are these — " I shall begin with the most comprehensive relation, wherein all things no that do or can exist are concerned, and that is the relation of cause and effect ; the idea whereof, how derived from the TWO fountains of all our knowledge, sensation and reflection^ I shall in the next place con- sider" ! (Book II. XXV. 11.) "It is, I grantj' pur- sues the critic, " an evident contradiction to the pas- sage before cited" (Ps. p. 179). I am much obliged to him for the concession, " But," he asks, " is this contradiction thrown in here at hazard and afterward abandoned and lost ? Yes, in regard to the twenty- sixth chapter" (undoubtedly ; for it forms a part of the last paragraph of his discussion on the idea of cause) ; " in regard to the entire work, no " (Ibid.) ; and in proof that this "contradiction" is not "thrown in here at hazard, and afterward abandoned and lost," he turns from the twenty-sixth chapter of this second book to the twenty first I Nor is this a mere verbal correction. The student of Locke reads the twenty- sixth chapter with the results of the twenty-first before him, and if Locke has in that chapter suffi- ciently explained the office of reflection in attaining our idea of cause, there is no need to repeat the same thing over again in the latter place. This twenty-first chapter is "on power." "At the bottom" says M. Cousin, " a chapter on power is a chapter on cause. For, what is power, but the power to produce something, that is a cause." To treat of power, then, is to treat of cause (Ps. p. 179). This state- ment is indisputable. " Now, what," proceeds the critic, " is the origin of the idea of power, according to Locke, in the chapter expressly devoted to this enquiry ? It is, as in chapter twenty-sixth^ at once smsation and reflection " (Ibid). This is certainly a new view of the contents of chapter twenty-sixth. It is a manifest contradiction, I grant, to the positive Ill passage I have already cited, in which the critic says that in that chapter Locke, without hesitation, refers the idea to sensation. It is, however, a more correct view of the contents of that chapter. In both chap- ters Locke refers the related ideas, both to sensation and reflection — the relation itself being, of course, attributed to the faculty of comparison, " upon which depends all that large tribe of ideas comprehended under relations'' (Book II. xi. 4). This last doctrine, too, is distinctly unfolded in the passage next quoted by M. Cousin, though it is, of course, ignored by that philosopher. Locke there gives the following account of the genesis of this idea of power, " Concluding from what it has so constantly observed to have been, that the like changes will, for the future, be made in the same things, by like agents, and by the like ways, the mind considers in one thing the possibility of having any of its simple ideas changed ; and, in another, the possibility of making that change ; and SO comes hy that idea which we call power In which, and the like cases, the power we consider is in refer- ence to the change of perceivable ideas," etc. (Book II. xxi. 1.) But to revert to M. Cousin. He has already told us, that the origin of the idea of power is, accord- ing to Locke, " at once'' sensation and reflection — he has told us, too, that when Locke refers an idea to difi'erent modes of experience, he attributes it to their ^^simultaneous" action (Ps. p. 123) ; and yet, he now proceeds to put the question " But this second origin does \i precede ov follow the first? We derive, ac- cording to Locke, the idea of cause both from sensation and from reflection. But from which of these do we derive it first T (Ps. p. 180). Surely, on M. Cousin's own showing, no question could be more 112 utterly senseless. It would be no less ridiculous than if I said I ascertained the position of a star in the heavens, by means of its right ascension and declination, and you were to ask me, " by which of them did you first ascertain it T This, however, is only an argu- mentum ad hominem. The idea of power, we have seen, is not derived first either from sensation or from reflection, but it is derived first and last from the faculty of comparison.* Having divided Locke's sup- posed origin into two, the critic says — " Here Locke says that it is not in sensation, but in reflection, that the idea of power is first given. It is a manifest con- tradiction, I grant^^ (how very free M. Cousin is in granting this kind of concessions to his imaginary opponent !) " to his ofiicial chapter on cause" (Ps. p. 180). Here it seems we have come back again to our old theory as to the contents of the twenty-sixth chapter, for this is Locke's " official chapter on cause." We commenced by saying that in this chapter Locke, without hesitation, referred the idea to sensation ; then we said he confounded it with succession, thereby implicitly reducing it to reflection ; then we affirmed that the origin in that chapter, as in the twenty-first, was " at once sensation and reflection," and now we * The reader will probably have observed that the only question which M. Cousin discusses with reference to any of the ideas under consideration, even those of them that are avowedly complex, is whether they are given by sensation or reflection as immediate data, as simple ideas. The office of the faculties, in framing them from the data of experience, is in every instance wholly ignored. Even M. Cousin's own account of the faculties will not excuse this pro- ceeding. They may have no originative power — they may be con- demned to operate only on sensations ; but surely if they operate at all, there must be some difference between the sensation before and after this operation. 113 have finally reverted to the old sensation theory again. But how does the critic establish his new charge, and prove this "manifest contradiction"? He quotes a passage in which Locke states that " the dearest idea of active power is had from spirit" (Book II. xxi. 4, quoted Ps. p. 180). The ^^ clearest idea," then, in this place, means the first idea ; it meant the only idea when we were treating of infinity, and " no clear and distinct idea" meant " no idea at all," when we were discussing the notion of substance. Further, power is now identified with active power, although Locke has expressly divided it into active and passive (Book II. xxi. 2) ; and with the idea of passive power " we are abundantly furnished by almost all sorts of sensible things" (Book II. xxi. 4). Nor let it be said that passive power is not the idea we are in search of ; it corresponds, no doubt, with the effect rather than the cause, but it is the relation we are seeking after, and the relation is as much contained in "effectuation" (if I may use the phrase), as in causation ; it is the same relation looked on from opposite sides. But by saying that we have the clearest idea of active power from spirit, Locke does not mean either the first idea or the only idea ; in fact he introduces the passage quoted by M. Cousin (Book II. xxi. 4), with the assertion that every change, every instance of passive power, is also an instance of active power. " But yet," says he, " 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 reflec- tion on the operations of our minds ;" and he assigns as a reason for this, that the power which is exercised by bodies on one another, seems only to be transferred, and not to originate; and therefore for the origination— 114 the absolute commencement — of motion, we must have recourse to spirit. This doctrine has been adopted in a mutilated form by a great modern intellectualist, Sir William Hamilton, whose writings are, indeed, far more open to M. Cousin's criticism than the original work of Locke; for while Sir William Hamilton agrees with Locke that every change that is observed in the material world, is a mere change of form, the operating forces themselves remaining unaltered — " Omnia mutantur, nihil interitf and while he confines his examples, fully as much as Locke, to objects of sense, he overlooks the power of absolute origination which Locke finds in volition, and extends Locke's doctrine of causation in matter to causation in general. I mention this chiefly for the purpose of showing that Locke's doctrine might have been made much more sensualistic than it is, without forming a part of a system of sensualism, or even of empiricism. Locke then concludes— not that external bodies cannot give us any idea of active power, or the first idea of active power — but that they can give us but a " very obscure, im- perfect idea" of it, and that therefore the mind receives " its idea of active power clearer^ from reflection on its own operations, than it doth from any external sensation"* (Book 11. xxi. 4). It is in consequence of this element of absolute origination that Locke thinks reflection on the operations of our minds gives us the clearest idea of active power. This is evidently quite independent of any supposed consciousness of the relation between the cause and the effect in the case of volition ; it consists merely in this, that a * When Mr. Stewart censures the phrase " external sensation," employed by Kant, he is probably not aware that it is borrowed from Locke. (See, too, Book II. xi. 17.) 115 voluntary determination does not exist, in a different form, anterior to its actual occurrence, as ice pre-exists in the form of water, or gunpowder in the form of charcoal, nitre, and sulphur. Locke may or may not have believed that in the peculiar case of volition, not only the cause and the effect (the me and the deter- mination of my mind), but also the relation itself, fell under the eye of consciousness. The passages we are considering give us no information on this subject ; but M. Cousin, ignoring their obvious meaning, inter- prets them to signify that in volition the relation itself is the object of consciousness, and that it is for this reason, and for this reason only, that Locke says that reflection on the operations of our minds gives us the clearest idea of active power. The idea of causation is thus made empirical ; but it is made so by ignoring, or rather reversing the doctrine of Locke, and that doctrine so interpreted, is identified with the theory of M. de Biran — a theory which no doubt accounts for the existence of the idea^ but fails to explain nine- tenths of the cases to which we habitually apply it (Ps. pp. 181-183). The theory of Locke is at once less empirical and more complete. But though Locke has professedly discussed the idea of cause only, M. Cousin will introduce the principle of causality also. These two questions have, really, no connexion. It is quite possible that the ideas of beginning to exist and of causation might be both purely a priori, and yet we might see no necessary connexion between them; and on the other hand, it is quite possible that though the ideas were both purely empirical, there might be a mental principle which, as soon as experience had furnished us with these ideas, compelled us to judge that everything that 116 begins to exist has a cause. But let us examine M. Cousin's criticism on Locke's treatment of the principle of causality. He first tells us that Locke derives it from the external world. " It is so far from being true," says he, " 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 for us have no existence" (Ps. p. 176). " In the first case," he says again, '' 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 prin- ciple of causality, he derives from the phenomena of the outward world precisely the principle without which there would be no outward world. He takes for granted the very thing in question" (Ps. p. 178). M. Cousin, however, does not attempt to inform us where Locke has derived this principle from the out- ward world ; so that, I presume, he thinks that this origin of. the principle is involved in Locke's account of the origin of the idea. If this be his ground for the assertion (and I am unable to imagine any other,) there are a considerable number of faulty links in the agreement. For, first, Locke does not derive the idea from the outward world, but from the faculty of com- parison. Secondly, he does not derive the materials on which this faculty operates, in arriving at the idea, exclusively from the outward world ; for he has told us they are simple ideas either of sensation or reflection. Thirdly, M. Cousin himself was obliged, almost at the outset, to abandon the thesis that Locke derived the idea from sensation, and to charge him with resolving it into succession, which is not, in the system of Locke, a simple idea of sensation. Fourthly, 117 the critic has also been compelled to recognize a second, and, as he thinks, inconsistent origin for the idea in reflection — while, fifthly, if Locke did derive the idea from the outward world, it would not follow that he derived the ijrmciple from it. M. Cousin has also been betrayed, by his love of antithesis, into an asser- tion which is scarcely consistent with his own system; for he says that without the principle of causality there would be for us no outward world — an asser- tion repeated in many diiferent forms of expression throughout this discussion (Ps. pp. 176-180) and elsewhere. Now, this, I apprehend, cannot be main- tained by a philosopher who believes in primary qualities of matter ; for the very distinction usually laid down between primary and secondary qualities, is, that we know the former as they exist in the bodies themselves, whereas the latter are known only as powers or causes of sensations, I think, too, that neither space nor figure are presented to us under the notion of causes, nor perhaps is color either ; and were we directed by the principle of causality only, we could only attribute our sensations to some un- know^n cause, finite or infinite, material or immaterial. However, the critic does not seem quite satisfied with his objection that Locke derives this principle from the outward world, and he has another criticism pre- pared — inconsistent, indeed, with the former, but which may condemn Locke with those who acquit him on the first charge.* Speaking of the passage * Perhaps, indeed, as Locke is charged with reducing the idea of causation to that of succession, the critic would say that his principle of causality could be only an inductive principle ; e.g. that every phenomenon has an antecedent phenomenon from which it invariably follows ; but, even thus, Locke would be guilty of no 118 from personal to external causation, he says, " for Locke, who treats of the idea of cause, hut Jiever of the principle of causality, the problem did not even exist" (Ps. p. 184) ; though how Locke derived the principle from the external world without treating of it, he has not deigned to explain. It is true, how- ever, that Locke has nowhere professedly treated of the principle of causality; and on this very account the critic should have been cautious in attributing to him any particular theory on the subject. But if, by his statement that Locke never treats of the principle, M. Cousin means that he nowhere ''^accepts and un- folds" the principle of causality, but everywhere "employs" it (Ps. p. 383), he is unquestionably wrong. Locke, at least, distinctly " accepts'^ the prin- ciple. " Whatever change is observed," says he, " the mind must collect a power somewhere able to make that change, as well as a possibility in the thing itself to receive it" (Book 11. xxi. 4); which is, I think, the most concise and accurate statement of the principle I have anywhere met with, and contrasts most favorably with the three imperfect and mutilated forms of it, given by Mr. Mansel in his Prolegomena Logica — and I must ask my reader's pardon for adding, that if it had been stated in this form by Mr. Mansel, his reasonings against its (necessary) objective valid- ity would appear as worthless as they really are — for he never really attempts to conceive an event taking place without some cause ; but he only imagines a paralogism. The Berkeleian must admit the existence of a class of feelings called sensations, and of a regular order of succession among these — and this is all that such an inductive principle would require for its basis. It could, therefore, scarcely be said to be derived from the outward world. 119 fanciful cause substituted for one of the ordinary known ones; nor, indeed, could it be inferred from even the mutilated forms of the principle that he has given us, that fire (and not something else) is the cause of the melting of wax ; nor, consequently, is their necessity overthrown by showing that this last proposition is not necessary. I have referred here to Mr. Mansel for the same reason that I previously referred to Sir William Hamilton — to show that, in this great question of causality, Locke held a doctrine of more advanced intellectualism than some of the leaders of that party in our own day. As might be ex- pected, Locke never questions the objective validity of this great principle. He holds it to be a law not only of the actual but the possible. "I shall begin," says he, " with the most comprehensive relation, wherein all things that do or can exist are concerned — and that is the relation of cause and effect" (Book IL xxv. 11); and accordingly he employs the principle, without hesitation, in his demonstration of the existence of God (Book ly. cap. x.). The reader may, therefore, judge of the truth of M. Cousin's assertions, that he derives the principle from the outward world, and that he nowhere accepts it.* Another idea of relation, or rather class of ideas of relation, remains to be considered, and then our list is complete. I mean what Locke has called " moral * As if it were destined that all kinds of inconsistent accusa- tions should be heaped upon Locke, in relation to this subject, he has, in addition to M. Cousin's charges, been accused of holding that the production of change, as well as the change itself, is per- ceived by the senses (which I have already disposed of) ; and with attempting to demonstrate the principle of causality. This charge is founded on Book IV. x. 3, where Locke demonstrates that there is something from eternity, by means of the principle of causality. 120 relations," and to his very brief and explicit account of which I invite particular attention, as no part of Locke's system has been treated more loosely. " There is another sort of relation^^^ says that philosopher, " which is the conformity or disagreement men! 8 volun- tary actions have to a rule to which they are referred, and by which they are judged of, which I think may be called moral relation" (Book 11. xxviii. 4). This relation (for it is important to bear in mind that it is a relation), then, consists in comparing our voluntary actions to some rule or standard, and perceiving their agreement or disagreement to it. But what is meant by such a rule or standard ? and what by con- formity to it ? " This rule," says Locke, " being nothing hut a collection of several simple ideas, the conformity thereto is but so ordering the action, that the simple ideas belonging to it may correspond to those which the law requires" (Book IL xxviii. 14). The rule, then, being a collection of simple ideas, is not a relation but a mode, and does not, therefore, enter into the subject of the present chapter any further than is necessary for explaining the nature of these relations. Accordingly, Locke says, in his reply to Lowde, speaking of this chapter — " I was not there laying down moral rules, but showing the original and nature of moral ideas, and enumerating the rules men make use of in moral relations, whether those rules were true or faW (Preface to the fourth edition, note to Book IL xxviii. 11) ; and in the text itself, as if on purpose to guard against this misapprehension, we find the following : — "in these 1 call moral relations, I have a true notion of relation, by eompainng the action with the rule, whether the rule be true or false'' (Book IL xxviii. 20). Locke, therefore, in general, 121 cautiously abstains from laying down rules, and con- fines himself to showing how, the rule being given, we form our ideas of the rectitude or obliquity of any voluntary action, by its conformity or non-conformity to that rule. In a treatise on ethics, it would, no doubt, be a most serious defect to omit laying down these moral rules ; in a treatise on metaphysics or psychology, it is perhaps a defect also ; but if it be so, the defect is in Locke's chapters on modes, not in the chapter we are now considering, for the rule to which we refer is a mode^ and we can consider nothing under the head of moral relations but the conformity or non- conformity of actions to this rule. But as modes are made arbitrarily by the mind, it is easy to frame any number of these rules or stan- dards, independent of, or inconsistent with, each other ; and therefore, if we had but a single set of terms to express the agreement or disagreement of our actions with rules, we might be entirely at cross purposes in our use of them ; while again, there are many of these rules to which we might never have occasion to refer. It is necessary, therefore, to examine what are the rules which men generally have occasion to refer to, and conformity or non-conformity to which have either usurped the general designations of these rela- tions, or acquired special names of their own. " Eecti- tude" and " obliquity" being the most general designa- tions (though almost usurped by certain particular rules), the next special relative names which attract the attention of Locke are " moral good" and " evil ;" the application of which terms he investigates as follows : — " Good and evil," says he, " are nothing but pleasure or pain, or that which occasions or procures pleasure or pain to us. Moral good and evil, then, is 122 only the conformity of our voluntary actions to some law, whereby good or evil is drawn on by the will of the law-giver, which good and evil .... we call reward and punishment" (Book II. xxviii. 5). Moral relation in general being then the relation of our voluntary actions to sow£ rule, when that rule has rewards or punishments annexed to it, this relation receives the special designation of moral good or evil. Of these rules, with punishments annexed to them, which may be called positive laws, there are three veiy general and very important ones — the relations of actions to which have also got specific designations of their own. These rules, as being at once the most important to us, and the most universal in their opera- tion, are those which it is chiefly or solely incumbent on Locke to examine ; they are the divine law, where these relations are called by the names sin and duty ; the civil law, where they are designated crime and innocence ; and the law of opinion, by reference to which they are styled virtue and vice. Such, according to Locke, is the use of these terms in the ordinary acceptation of them. There may, no doubt, be another law to which men ought to refer their actions, rather than to any of the three which have been mentioned. On this point Locke (hitherto, at least) has asserted nothing ; but he has asserted that the terms already mentioned are ordinarily applied to the three laws here enumerated, and that if there be a fourth higher law, these terms are not applied with equal propriety to conformity or non- conformity to it. These rules, then, are moral rules, and it is by reference to them that we judge that our actions are morally good or evil, according as they are or are not conformed to them. 123 The reader will very probably be inclined to object here that Locke has mis-stated the proper application of the terms, and that virtue and vice are properly applied, not to the law of opinion, but to the higher law of conscience. But this is only a question about the application of words. Locke himself says that in this place he " only reported, as a matter of fact, what others call virtue and vice" (Preface to fourth edition, note. Book IL xxviii. 11) ; and he may have been mistaken as to this matter of fact, without the truth of his theory being at all affected thereby ; and indeed both Locke and the objector may be right as to the matter of fact, for the ordinary use of the terms may have altered since his time. However, there is another objection which might probably be suggested by Locke's use of the terms, viz., that if he thought there was a higher law, he has not only failed to enumerate it in this chapter, but that he has appro- priated all the terms expressive of moral relation to the lower laws, and has left the relations of our acts to the higher rule completely nameless. Further, he considers enforcement by reward and punishment, that is, by pleasure and pain, essential to the lower laws ; and when he appropriates all the terms by which we express moral relations to these, he must be understood as teaching a morality of self-love — teaching that those actions which obtain pleasure for us are morally right, and that those which bring pain upon us are morally wrong. I shall refer to the supposed omission of the higher law before I conclude. Locke has at least left room for it, by stating that the three positive laws already mentioned are those " to which men generally refer, and by which they judge of the rectitude or pravity of their actions'' (Book II. xxviii. 6) ; and I 124 think it can scarcely be said that he has appropriated the terms " right " and " wrong " to any of the rules under consideration ; but there is a limitation in the phraseology of Locke, whicli prevents us from identi- fying his views with the selfish system ; for the en- forcements of these moral rules are not pleasure and pain simply, but reward and punishment, that is to say, pleasure and pain '' that is not the natural product and consequence of the action itself' (Book IL xxviii. 6), but is annexed to it by the positive decree of the legis- lator (Ibid). If, then, by these terms Locke means to inculcate a system of morals, it will be, indeed, a peculiar one ; for an action will be held to be morally good, if any legislator has annexed a reward to it, although it may bring with it, as a natural product, an amount of pain far more than sufficient to counter- balance the reward ; and again, it will be morally evil, if it has any penalty annexed to it by a positive law, though its natural pleasurable consequences be vastly more important than the penalty so .annexed to it. This, I think, is sufficient to prove that by his phraseology Locke did not mean to inculcate the selfish system, or indeed any other system of morals; for the system to which his language (or rather his account of the language of others), would lead us, is so mon- strously absurd that we could not impute it to him even conjecturally. I have found it necessary to dwell somewhat longer than I had intended on these prefatory remarks ; but this chapter has been so much mistaken, both by Lockers critics and his expositors, that it is important to place its contents in a clear light. Summarily, then, moral relation consists in the conformity or non-conformity of our voluntary actions to some rule or law to which we refer them ; this rule 125 or law consists of a mode or collection of simple ideas, aTid is therefore not a relation ; and thirdly, the rules to which men usually refer their actions, and by reference to which they call them morally good or evil, &c., are those rules which have rewards and punishments annexed to them by the positive decree of the legislator. Let us now turn to M. Cousin. He commences by stating at once what he takes to be the doctrine of Locke, and his own refutation of it. '' It is an undeniable fact," says he, " 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 But suppose there is neither good or evil (the reader will observe that these terms are used in a sense quite different from that of Locke), neither justice or 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 ground for peace of conscience, or for the pains of remorse .... 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 and demerit, which rests upon that of law. Now what course does Locke take? He deduces the idea of right and wrong, of the moral law and all the rules of duty, from the fear and hope of re- wards and punishments, human or divine: he grounds the principle upon the consequence ; he confounds, not as before, the antecedent with the consequent, but the consequent with the antecedent" (Ps. pp. 200, 201). Before pointing out the mistake as to the philosophy of Locke, contained in this passage, 1 shall call attention to another error, into which the critic's 126 extreme desire ot explaining how Locke went astray has led him — an error, too, which he subsequently repeats ; for, he tells us that the idea of right and wrong is both the logical and chronological condition of the idea of reward and punishment (Ps. p. 213). But what is this idea of reward and punishment? According both to Locke (Book IL xxviii. 5) and to his critic, it resolves itself into pleasure and pain. " This idea," says the latter, " is that of reward and punish- ment, which resolves itself into pleasure and pain, happiness and misery" (Ps. p. 213). Is, then, the idea of right and wrong the logical and chronological condition of happiness and misery? and can I not feel pain or pleasure until the ideas of right and wrong are fully developed in my mind ? This question needs no answer. Reward and punishment are but pleasure and pain annexed by a legislator to certain voluntary actions : they would have a place in the government of a devil as well as in that of a human or divine legislator, and are ideas perfectly distinct from and independent of those of right and wrong, with which they are connected neither logically or chronologi- cally — neither as antecedent nor as consequent. But M. Cousin invariably assumes that not only divine government and human government, but that every government, of every description, real or imaginary, has and can have no other object in view than the enforcement of the moral law — a proposition which, when thus nakedly stated, requires no refutation, but without which most of M. Cousin's arguments on this question are utterly fallacious. For example, he says, " suppose there is neither justice or injustice in itself: suppose there is no law (which he evidently considers as th€ necessary consequence of the first supposition), 127 . . . . there is no place for reward or punish- ment" (Ps. p. 201) ; and again, after showing, or attempting to show, that if there is nothing right or wrong in itself, penal laws could not be defended as right (which is an identical proposition ; for if nothing be right, it is not right to enforce a law), or even as useful (Ps. p. 210), he quietly assumes that no law could exist which is neither right nor useful, and concludes, " the idea of right and wrong is grounded only on itself — on the 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 " (Ps. p. 211). If it were so, we should have few com- plaints of unjust laws, or defects in the moral govern- ment of the world. But to go no farther, it is plain that none of the financial laws of a country are im- posed for the sake of enforcing that which is just and right in itself ; for it will not be easy to establish, a priori^ that it is right I should pay ninepence in the pound of my income to another, and that (in the ab- sence of legislation on the subject ; for legislation does not make a thing right, but only enforces what is right already) I should be very wrong in not doing so. However, to return to Locke, we find this very strange charge : — " He deduces the idea of right and wrong, of the moral law and all the rules of duty,/rc>m the fear and hope of rewards and punishments^ human and divine'' (Ps. p. 201). It certainly would be a new course to deduce the moral law from the punish- ments annexed to it. We should thus have a variety of problems of this kind — " Given six months impri- sonment, with hard labour as the punishment, to find the offence ;" and the solution could scarcely be given 128 with mathematical precision. But M. Cousin does not exactly say that Locke deduces the moral law from the penalties which, in that philosopher's lan- guage, are annexed to this law as an enforcement of it. He says that he deduces the moral law and all the rules of duty from the fear and liope of rewards and punishments. Let us see, then, if it will mend the question to put it in this form — " Given the strength of a man's fear and hope, to find the moral law ?" The doctrine here attributed to Locke is that of a lunatic. No rule — no law — could possibly be deduced either from fear and hope or from pleasure and pain,* nor is there a single passage in Locke that could give a color to such a charge. The law or rule is, according to Locke, a collection of simple ideas, among which neither hope or fear, pleasure or pain, are enumerated. But it is one thing to say that reward and punish- ment presuppose a law of some kind — it is another thing to say that they presuppose the ideas of right and wrong ; and Locke, I think with perfect justice, main- tains the first of these propositions, while denying the second. Moreover, the moral relation is the conformity of our actions to a rule, however this rule be arrived at ; and if Locke has stated the true rule by which we are to judge of these actions, his account of moral relations is not vitiated by any deduction of that rule, however fanciful or absurd. The relation of the same action to the same rule is the same, however the rule is arrived at, and if the proper rule be stated we have got the true measure — the true touchstone — of * It is scarcely necessary to add, that Locke does not " deduce " the laws from anything — such a deduction would be quite out of place in a chapter on relation. He merely " enumerates " the laws to which men usually refer their actions. 129 morality. But as yet Locke has not affirmed that any of the rules he has enumerated is the true rule to which we ought on all occasions to refer our actions. Nor, indeed, has the critic hitherto touched on the real subject of this chapter at all. That subject is " moral relations ;" and surely M. Cousin does not mean to say that Locke reduced these to fear and hope or to pleasure and pain (M. Cousin's language seems at one time to imply that Locke reduces moral rules to the former of these, and at another to the latter ; but they are plainly very distinct), for to do this it would be necessary for him to maintain that according to Locke hope and fear, pleasure and pain, are rela- tions: Si thesis which I suppose even M. Cousin will scarcely be disposed to advocate. In fact, if M. Cousin had studied this chapter with any degree of care, I have no doubt he would have remodelled a large part of his criticism ; his error arising from the same cause that we have so often met with before, viz., overlooking the passage in which Locke enunciates his theory, and mistaking some paragraph in which he unfolds a particular portion of that theory, for his complete doctrine on the subject. Having resolved Locke's idea of right and wrong into reward and punishment, the critic proceeds to identify him with the utilitarian, and upon that sup- position to give a refutation of his doctrine (Ps. pp. 202-213). If by utility M. Cousin means utility to the person himself, it is plain from the restriction already pointed out (" that is not the natural pro- duct and consequence of the action itself") that even Locke's use of the terms does not coincide with such a doctrine; if by utility he means utility to mankind in general, so far is Locke from making this the sole 130 rule of right, that he has not mentioned it in his enu- meration of moral rules at all: and if (as seems to be the real state of the case), M. Cousin vacillates in his employment of the terra, putting it sometimes for one and sometimes for the other of these two utilities, his remarks are still less applicable to the doctrine of Locke. Take the following as an example : " If the good were nothing but the useful, the admiration which virtue excites would be always in proportion to its utility. But such is not the fact. The most useful virtuous act can never be so much so, as many natural 'pltenomena. . . . But who ever experiences for the sun the sentiment of admiration and respect which the most unproductive act of virtue inspires. '* (Ps. p. 204.) Now, this passage, besides constituting our sentiment of admiration the measure of the moral worth of our actions, (which it is not, since by M. Cousin's own account, self-sacrifice has fully as much to do with determining its quantity as virtue) is one which could not have been applied to the doc- trine of Locke by any attentive reader of his work. What is Locke's definition of moral relation ? " There is another sort of relation, which is the conformity or disagreement men's voluntary actions have to a rule, to which they are referred, and by which they are judged of ; which I think may be called moral relation, as being that which denominates our moral actions " (Book II. xxviii. 4). And the same limi- tation to voluntary actions, and even human volun- tary actions, is repeated in the same section, and in sections 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 13, 14, and 16 of this twenty -eighth chapter. The argument of M. Cousin is only valid, if the sun be an agent who benefits us by his voluntary actions ; and scarcely even then, f )r, 131 as we have seen, Locke almost confines liis doctrine to human voluntary actions. At the close of hi& refutation of utilitarianism, however, M. Cousin pro- ceeds to a definite criticism; and for that purpose quotes first a remarkable section (Book II. xxviii. 8), in which Locke has hazarded the only opinion he has given in this chapter as to the true touchstone of moral rectitude. In the other sections, which seem objectionable, he is, as we have seen, merely stating as a matter of fact the common use of the terms. In this he certainly goes farther. But it is necessary to premise a few observations. Supposing that, according to Locke, there is a true rule of moral rectitude, to which men ought to refer their voluntary actions in preference to any positive law as such, would this rule require a separate treat- ment, if it coincided exactly with one of the positive laws already mentioned ? In the system of Locke I think not. The rule is but a collection of simple ideas, and where this collection is the same, the relation of our voluntary actions to it will be the same also. Suppose, for example, that this law or rule (it ought to be observed that, though I sometimes use these terms as synonymous, they are distinct in Locke ; for a law is a rule enforced by rewards and punishments) coin- cides exactly with the Divine law. Then I may refer my voluntary actions to this rule on account of the rewards and punishments annexed to it, and you may refer yours to it because it is the supreme law of your nature, by which you ought to regulate your conduct irrespective of any positive sanction of it ; but the rule referred to is the same in both cases, and conse- quently the same actions will stand in the same rela- tion to it, and we shall be agreed as to moral rectitude 132 or obliquity of any action ; that is to say, the notion of moral relation will be the same. A separate treat- ment does not therefore appear necessary, even if the coincidence of the two rules were casual. Locke, we must recollect, is treating of relations^ and moral rela- tion comes in as a particular kind of relation ; and as it would be out of place to deduce or lay down moral rules in a chapter on such a subject, so it would be equally out of place to investigate the nature oi moral obligation^ or to determine which rule we were under the strongest obligation to obey. We are here con- cerned not with the rule, nor with our obligation to obey the rule, but simply and solely with the relation which our voluntary actions bear to the rule, when it has been already laid down. But while Locke would thus be blameless even if the coincidence of the two rules were casual, he is much more so, if it be necessary. Now how has he defined the Divine law ? By the Divine law, he tells us, he means, " that law^ which God has set to the actions of men, whether pro- mulgated to them by the light of nature or the voice of revelation" (Book IL xxviii. 8). But how is this law " promulgated to them by the light of nature" ? Is it by those faculties which enable us to foresee the natural consequences of our actions — the pleasure or pain which will result from them in the established course of things ? No ; for in the preceding section Locke has told us that it is essential to a law^ (as dis- tinct from a rule^ which the Divine law undoubtedly is), that it should be enforced by " some good or evil, that is not the natural product and consequence of the action itself" (Book IL xxviii. 6). But how is such a law as this promulgated to us by the light of na- ture ? Apparently only by our moral judgments — 133 by our perception of right and wrong — by our sense of merit and demerit. If this be so, the two rules necessarily coincide ; and consequently a separate treatment of them would be quite superfluous in a chapter on moral relation. Now let us turn to the passage quoted by the critic. "'Divine law the measure of sin and duty. — First, the Divine law, whereby I mean 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 rectitude, 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 happi- ness or misery, from the hands of the Almighty' (Book II. xxviii. 8). Here, then," proceeds M. Cousin, " the punishments atid rewards of a future life are declared the sole touchstone, the sole measure of the rectitude of our actions " (Ps. p. 214). The para- graph which I have printed in capitals is the only opinion that Locke has expressed, as to the true rule of moral rectitude in the chapter, and M. Cousin's interpretation of it is given below. The justice of his criticism evidently depends on whether the pronoun " this,^^ with which the paragraph commences, refers to " rewards and punishments," or to " law," in the 134 preceding sentence ; for, if it refer to the former, the punishments and rewards of a future life are undoubtedly made the sole touchstone of moral recti- tude ; but if it refer to the latter, then it is the Divine law, and not the rewards and punishments attached to it, which is made the rule of right, and touchstone of morality. Now, I think, it must plainly refer to the latter ; for, first, " this " is in the singular number, whereas " rewards and punishments " is in the plural ; secondly, to call " rewards and punishments " a " touchstone " would be a strange ex- pression, and that term is, in another part of this chapter, plainly commuted with "rule" (Book 11. xxviii. 14) ; but, thirdly, the context sets the ques- tion at rest, for Locke there says, " This is the only true touchstone of moral rectitude, and by reference to THIS LAW," &c. It is, then, the Divine law which ig made the sole true touchstone of moral rectitude ; which is precisely what we might have expected, if Locke holds that Divine law coincided accurately with the moral law ; and this, undoubtedly, he does. " Virtue and vice," says he, " are names pretended and supposed everywhere to stand for actions m their own nature right and wrong ; and so far as they are REALLY SO APPLIED they are coincident with the divine law above mentioned" (Book 11. xxviii. 10). Equally futile is another criticism of M. Cousin's on the passage before us. " It is of no avail," says he, " to say that God has a right 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" (Ps. p. 215). I must JII7SRSIT7) diiFer with this very decidedly. As our Creator and Preserver, God has a right to command our obedience in anything morally indifferent — the Jewish cere- monial law, for example — very different from the right of the strongest ; for surely no one will say that a being who has hitherto had no connexion with us stands to us in the same relation as our Creator and Pre- server, provided he be equally powerful. Locke, too, has enumerated three reasons why God has a right to impose laws upon us. 1. That we are his creatures. 2. That he has wisdom and goodness to direct us to what is best ; and, 3. That he has power to enforce his laws by rewards and punishments; which would be only a repetition of the first reason, if that reason also was an appeal to the right of the strongest.* Besides, Locke uses the term " right " rather in a jurisprudential (to coin a word) than an ethical sense ; and indeed his whole treatment of the subject has been influenced, and I think influenced for the worse, by the writings on natural jurisprudence, which were so much in vogue in his time. The leader will easily trace the efiects of this influence in the parts of the chapter we have already considered. But before taking leave of this part of the subject, I may observe that Locke has not called this rule, which is the sole touchstone of moral rectitude, by the title of the divine law only. He has, apparently, looked at it in the twofold light I have alluded to — calling it by the two names of the " divine law," and " the law of nature''^ (Book II. xxviii. 11, and Preface to Fourth Edition, Note to Book II. xxviii. 11). In M. Cousin^s criticisms on Locke's account of the * M. Cousin, of course, passes over the second reason. It would not answer to discuss it. 136 civil law and the philosophical law, I am little con- cerned ; for I have shown that Locke is only speak- ing there of the laws to which men usually refer their actions, and the names which they usually give to these relations ; nor has he hazarded, with respect to either of them, any such assertion as " this is the only true touchstone of moral rectitude." One of M. Cousin's criticisms, however, I cannot pass over. The critic, forgetting that he had previously told us that " the punishments and rewards of a future life are declared the sole touchstone, the sole measure of the rectitude of our actions" (Ps. p. 214), tells us now that Locke ' 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" (Ps. p. 218). This is an old objection, to which Locke has long ago given a * How ill the charge of forcing aside Scripture from its plain natural sense comes from M. Cousin the reader will judge by the following passage : — " Reason, then, is literally a revelation — a necessary and universal revelation — which is wanting to no man, and which enlightens every man on his coming into the world-—' * illuminat omnem hominem venientem in hunc mundum.' Reason is the necessary mediator between God and man, the ' Logos' of Pythagoras and Plato, the Word made flesh, which serves as the interpreter of God and the teacher of man, divine and human at the same time. It is not, indeed, the Absolute God, in his majestic individuality, but it is his manifestation in spirit and in truth ; it is not the Being of Beings, hut it is the revealed God of the human race" &c. (Ps. p. 437). Yet Dr. Henry ridicules a writer in the Princeton Review for drawing " so many frightful consequences'* from M. Cousin's calling reason a " revelation" (as if that were the most exceptionable of his expressions !) and for identifying his doctrine with even the modified rationalism of " Marheineke and Rohr " (Ps. Introduction, 1, U.) The reviewer was certainly wrong. He ought to have identified M. Cousin, not with Mar- heineke and Rohr, but with Strauss. 137 satisfactory answer. "By which words," says he, alluding to the paragraph immediately preceding the quotation from St. Paul, " and the rest of that sec- . tion, it is plain that I brought this passage of St. Paul, not to prove that the general measure of what men call virtue and vice throughout the world, was the reputation and fashion of each particular society within itself; but that, though it were so, yet for reasons I there give, men in that way of denominating their actions, did not, for the most part, vary much from the law of nature, which is that standing and unalterable rule, by which they ought to judge of the moral rectitude and pravity of their actions, and accordingly denominate them virtues or vices. Had Mr. Lowde," he adds, and if he were alive he might write M. Cousin's name for Mr. Lowde's, " considered this, he would have found it little to his purpose to have quoted that passage in a sense I used it not " (Preface to Fourth Edition, Note to BookILxxviii.il); and the reader will see, by reference to the passage, that in making the law of nature (and not good or bad fame) the rule by which we ought to determine the virtuousness or viciousness of actions, Locke has only repeated in the note what he had already stated in the text (Book IT. xxviii. 11). But M. Cousin cannot leave the subject without another blunder, which, if less important in an ethical point of view, shews even more strikingly his igno- ranee of the philosophy of Locke. " Locke," he says, " takes the consequence for the principle, the effect for the cause. And you will observe that this confusion is a necessary consequence of his system. This system admitsno idea that is not derived from reflection orfrom sensation. Refection being here out of the question, it K 138 is to sensation that Locke has recourse ; and, as sen- sation 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 sensation^ 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 or misery, or in general into utility " (Ps. p. 219). " Reflection," says the critic, " being here out of the question, it is to sensation that Locke has recourse." Is it possible that he is ignorant of all the moral systems — very plausible moral systems too — that have been founded on reflection ? Did he never hear of Hutchenson's moral sense, or Smith's moral sentiments, or the various ramifications of the same system, maintained by Shaftesbury, Hume, Hartley, Mackintosh, and others ? Nor is this system by any means out of favour at the present day ; for there seems a very general disposition at least to combine it with those systems which found morality in reason. But Locke has recourse to sensation, we are told, and sensation supplies him with the idea of reward and punishment, which resolves itself into pleasure and pain. Can we be informed in more direct terms that Locke con- sidered pleasure and pain simple ideas of sensation, and of sensation to the exclusion of reflection ? Now, let us turn to the Essay on the Human Under- standing. Here I find pleasure and pain classed among simple ideas of both sensation and reflection (Book II. vii. 1-7). Of these two origins, too, the preference is evidently given to reflection. This mode of experience has been defined by Locke as " that notice which the mind takes of its own operations and the manner of them, by reason whereof there come to 139 be ideas of these operations in the understanding" (Book 11. i. 4) ; and he immediately adds, (evidently for the purpose of including the ideas of pleasure and pain) " 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 sometimes from them, such as is the satis- faction or uneasiness'' (words professedly used as the synonyms of pleasure and pain; Book II. vii. 2) ''arising from any thowjhf (Ibid). Again he calls these ideas ''internal sensations" (Book II. xx. 3), a term which is used for reflection in contradistinction to " external sensation" (Book II. xi. 17), or sensation proper ; and although he states in the chapter before us, that they are simple ideas of both sensation and reflection, he equally says that they are made known to us, by reflection on what we feel in ourselves (Book II. XX. 1). Nor is there a single passage in the Essay which could be interpreted to mean that these ideas are derived exclusively from sensation. The reader will judge, by this specimen, of the careful manner in which the critic studied those portions of the Essay which he was not about to comment upon. With this observation I must take leave for the present of Locke's views on morals. There are, indeed, many exception- able passages on this subject in the Essay on the Human Understanding ; and what Locke's views on morals were, is a point which I think lies fairly open to dispute. But though many objectionable passages occur in Locke, the critic has not succeeded in laying hold of any of them ; and as the passages he has cited simply prove nothing at all, I shall reserve the discus- sion of Locke's real system for an appendix. I have thus concluded the examination of the several 140 pMrticular ideas successively taken up by Locke and his critic, the discussion of which occupies the greater part of the second book of the Essay, and between three and four of M. Cousin's lectures. In each case we have arrived at the same result, the chief difference consisting in the number of errors committed by M. Cousin, who has not hitherto succeeded in substantia- ting a single charge against the illustrious object of his animadversions. He proceeds, however, to a few general criticisms on the second book of the Essay. He begins by attacking Locke's division of ideas into simple and complex, or rather, his doctrine that simple ideas are those which first enter the mind. On the contrary, M. Cousin tells us that there are a large number of complex ideas very early in the mind (Ps. pp. 221, 222j, and that these are afterwards rendered simple by abstraction* (Ibid.). To form a judgment on the value of this criticism, we must first ascertain distinctly what Locke means by complex, and what by simple ideas. The critic volunteers to give us this information. '' All those ideas," says he, '' which are derived immediately from these two sources — sensa- * That these complex ideas, however early in the mind, are not immediate data of sense, and therefore not equivalent to the simple ideas of Locke, is evident from M. Cousin's own account of them. "All our primary ideas," says he, "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 ideaSy hound and blended together, which form a whole" (Ps. p. 22 1 ). It is obvious that none of the acquisitive faculties can thus " bind " and "blend" together its own products and the products of other faculties ; and Locke is, therefore, strictly accurate in distinguish- ing the acquisitive faculties which thus provide us with " a number of ideas," from the combinative faculty, which binds and blends them together. 141 tion and reflection —are by Locke denominated simple ideas'' (Ps. p. 221). This we have already seen is (with certain not very material restrictions) a correct account of Locke's simple ideas. " Compound or complex ideas," continues M. Cousin, " are those which we form subsequently, by the combination of simple and primitive ideas " (Ibid.). This he repeats a little below, adding " association " to '^ combination," and stating that from these complex ideas themselves are formed ideas still more complex— formed, I pre- sume, also by combination. The complex idea of Locke is, therefore, officially described by the critic as a compound idea, formed by a combination of simple ideas — that is to say, of the immediate data of sense and reflection. He then proceeds to inform us that these immediate data are really complex and not simple, and that they are^ subsequently decompounded and rendered more simple (Ps. p. 222) ; and at the end of this discus- sion he tells us, that " general ideas, formed by abstraction," are " what we are to understand by the complex ideas of Locke " (Ps. p. 223). Now, this is the direct contrary of what the critic has informed us just two pages before. Can any two things be more opposed than forming a '' compound'' idea by ''' com- binatioJi^" and forming a " general " idea by " abstrac- tion "? And the critic himself has been at pains to show that this general idea is really simple, while the particular idea — the immediate datum is really complex (Ps. p. 222). The last portion of his doctrine, however, only makes the contra- diction between his two accounts of Locke's complex idea the more glaring. For if the compound idea, formed by combination of simple ideas, be complex, 142 much more will the idea which is formed by a com- bination of compound ideas. Moreover, M. Cousin had only to open the work of Locke in order to recon- cile his contradictory assertions. Complex ideas, according to Locke, "are made out of simple ideas;" and " the acts of the mind, whereby it exercises its power over its simple ideas, are chiefly these three: — I. Combining several simple ideas into one compound one, and thus all complex ideas are made.* 2. The second is bringing two ideas, whether simple or com- plex, together, and setting them by one another, so as to take a view of them at once, without uniting them into one^ by which way it gets all ideas of relations, 3. The third is separating them from all other ideas that accompany them in their real existence ; this is called abstraction^ and thus all general ideas are made " (Book IL xii. 1). Complex ideas are then neither compound ideas nor abstract ideas, but consist of three classes — compound ideas, relations, and abstract ideas ; and M. Cousin has followed up his strange omission with respect to the faculty of comparison by ignoring the second and most important class of complex ideas — ideas of relation. A criticism founded on such a defective and erroneous view of the nature of complex ideas is of course of no value, and the reader will easily see by Locke's account of abstraction, given above, * This passage at first seems to coincide with the first assertion of M. Cousin ; and Locke undoubtedly does sometimes use the term '' complex ideas " in the sense of compound ideas ; but it is not in this sense that the term is used in opposition to simple ideas for then abstractions and relations would be simple ideas, which they plainly are not. Relations (which are derived by the second operation) are, in this very chapter^ classed as complex ideas (Book II. xii. 3), and so I think are abstractions, for Locke speaks of ^'decompounded"" as well ''' compounded'' complex ideas (Ibid). 143 that that philosopher acknowledged the presence of complex ideas in the mind at a very early period, though he attributed them to the combinative faculty, and held that simple ideas entered by the senses simple and unmixed (Book II. ii. 1). The difference of opinion as to whetber immediate data of sense or abstract ideas are to be called simple (Locke holding the former, and his critic the latter), is well explained by Dr. Webb, and by Mr. Mansel. Locke speaks of simple apprehensions of sense — M. Cousin of simple concepts of the understanding. Nor are these simple apprehensions of sense really decompounded in ab- straction. Take, for example, the idea of blue. We may form from this by successive abstractions the ideas of color, sensation, phenomenon, and thing or object : each of which are in one sense more sim- ple ; yet, there is no true decomposition, no separa- tion of the idea into different ideas (which would be required to refute the definition of Locke, Book II. ii. 1). When, from the idea of blue we form that of color, there is no supplementary idea which, toge- ther with that of color, makes up the idea of blue ; nor when from color we pass to sensation, is there any idea framed in the mind, which is neither color nor sensation, but the difference between the two. The simple ideas of Locke are, therefore, not only simple as regards their genesis, being immediate data of experience, but they are also simple in respect to their essence, in this sense, that though we can form partial conceptions of them we cannot analyse them into more than one idea ; while abstract ideas are, at least, complex with regard to their genesis, since they presuppose immediate data of experience, and an operation upon these by the faculty of abstraction. 144 The nomenclature of Locke, therefore, seems prefer- able to that of his critic. M. Cousin next objects that Locke has not recog- nized (or has rather expressly denied) the activity of the mind in attaining these simple ideas of experience. The criticism is again true to the ear. Locke, un- doubtedly, says that the mind is passive in the recep- tion of simple ideas, active in the formation of complex ideas. But a very slight examination will convince us that, by stating that the mind is passive in the acquisition of simple ideas, he merely meant to deny its voluntary activity^ or, perhaps, rather the dependence of the ideas of experience on the will (Book IL ix. 1). That the mind is in another sense active in the reception of them he has every- where admitted. His very definition of the two modes of experience is '' our observation employed either about external sensible objects, or about the in- ternal operations of our minds " (Book IL i. 2) ; and reflection is ^ that notice which the mind takes of its own operations," &c. (Book IL i. 4). He insists on the necessity of attention for the acquisition of our ideas of reflection (Book IL i. 8). He says that unless " notice'' is taken of the " impressions " on our organism, there is no perception (Bookll. ix. 3) ; and he illustrates by the case of an infant " how covetous the mind is to be furnished with all such ideas as have no pain accompanying them" (Book IL ix. 7). See, too. Book II. xix. 3. With this charge concludes the critic's " exact and faithful analysis of the second booF of the Essay (Ps. p. 225). The reader is, I hope, in a position to judge of its faithfulness and exactitude, and I may, therefore, without further delay, take up the unfavourable criticisms on the third book, which 145 occupy most of the remainder of M. Cousin's fifth lecture.* He commences by taking exception to Locke's re- mark that " words ultimately derive their origin from such as signify sensible things" (Book III. i. 5). He denies the truth of this assertion absolutely, and adduces certain words whose sensible derivations have not as yet been made out (Fs. p. 228). He does not, however, dispute the justice of Locke's observation as a general rule, and it is not improbable that that philosopher intended it for nothing more. But he objects to a conclusion which has been drawn from it by what he calls the school of Locke (for he does not venture to attribute it to Locke himself, though he probably wishes his reader to attribute it to him), viz., that all ideas are equally derived from sensible ideas (Ps. p. 229) ; and in opposition to this, he thus points out the true conclusion to be deduced from it, were it * Before taking leave of the second book, it may be as well to remark, that Locke would gain little by some of the confusions attributed to him, even if he were the most thorough -going sensu- alist. Take, for example, the idea of space. He reduces this to body, says the critic. But what is body ? It is evidently a kind of substance (Book II. xxiii. 15, etc.). To this M. Cousin would answer, that Locke resolves our idea of substance into a collection of qualities. Be it so. What, then, is a quality ? By Locke's own statement, it is a power to produce an idea in our mind, a cause of sensation, or perception in us. How, then, about this idea of cause, or of power? According to the critic, Locke resolves it into succession. Let us see, then, what Locke has gained by this long series of reductions. I will not argue that the idea of succes- sion could not be derived from mere capacities of sense, or that Locke himself says that it is a suggested idea. I would merely say that M. Cousin's charge of confounding succession with dura- tion would thus involve a confusion of space with time, and that Locke's derivation of space from sensation would be inconsistent with his deduction of succession from reflection. 146 fully established. " Even if it were true," says he, " and absolutely so, which is not the case, let us see the only conclusion which could be justly drawn from it. The phenomena of the external world first strike a man's notice ; these phenomena, of course, receive the first names ; the first signs are drawn from tangible objects, and they are tinged, in some sort, with their colors. And when man, subsequently, in falling back upon himself wishes to express the new pheno- mena 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" (Ps. p. 228, 229). That Locke repudiates the conclusion of his so-called disciples in the sequel of this very passage (Book III. i. 5), has been remarked by Mr. Stewart ; and there is another very remarkable passage in which he seems to adopt the conclusion, not of his disciples, but of his critic. ''' If the names of things^' says he, " may at all direct our thoughts towards the originals of merHs ideas^ (as I am apt to think they may very much) one may have occasion to think by the name duration^ that the continuation of existence with a kind of resistance to any destructive force, and the continuation of solidity, (which is apt to be confounded with . . . hardness) were thought to have some analogy^ and gave occasion to words so near of kin as durare and durum esse^' (Book II. XV. 4). The first and last clauses of this passage, considered together, afibrd a very valuable commen- tary on the section in the third book, and I think remove whatever appears objectionable in that section, taken by itself. The critic next objects to Locke's statements that the meaning of words is purely arbitrary. As, how- 147 ever, he assigns no reason for disputing this (I think) obvious truth, I am unable to argue with him. I am unable to see any connexion between sounds, and things so wholly heterogeneous and dissimilar to them as the greater part of our ideas are ; and although there are a few instances in which a sound seems peculiarly suited to represent a certain idea — as when that idea is that of another sound resembling the former, or of a muscular action similar to that which is requisite in order to pronounce the sound — yet this is plainly unnecessary, and the same idea might be as well represented by any other conventional sign. That a word should have a natural meaning, independent of our conventions, appears so improbable to any person who can dissolve for a moment the obstinate associa- tion between words and things, that Locke was at least justified in assuming the contrary until M. Cousin or some of his critics brings forward " some one root that carries of itself its own signification, which has a natural meaning, which is the foundation of subsequent convention, instead of coming from con- vention" (Ps. p. 230). M. Cousin, however, does not' appear certain of this objection, but pretermitting it, he proceeds to urge that Locke " should have excepted the laws of the relations of words to each other" (Ibid); that is, as he proceeds to explain it, the laws contem- plated by universal grammar. I am surprised, how- ever, that any one could interpret Locke's simple remark as an exclusion of these rules; and I am inclined to think that this criticism is not put forward so much for its own sake, as for the sake of introducing the following objection. ^^ Now it is remarkable that in the hook on words Locke has never touched upon the relations of words, never upon syntax^ nor the 148 true foundation of language. There are a multitude of special reflections, and ingenious too, but no theory, no true grammar" (Ps. p. 231). This intended attack is in reality a panegyric on Locke. The third book of the Essay is not a "book on words"; it is a book on words, so far forth as related to our knowledge. This Locke has himself informed us (Book III. ix. 21), where he says that at first he had no intention oi treating of words at all, but that when he came to examine the extent and certainty of our knowledge, he found it had so near a connexion with words that unless their force and manner of signification were at first well observed, very little could be pertinently or clearly said concerning knowledge, " which being con- versant with truth, had constantly to do with proposi- tions. And though it terminated in things, yet it was, for the most part, so much by the intervention of words, that they seemed scarce separable from our general knowledge." This was Locke's object in treating of words, and it is plain that nothing could be more foreign to it, or indeed to the general design of the Essay, than such an universal grammar, or dis- quisition upon syntax, as M. Cousin seems to expect from our author ; whose abstaining from such in- viting speculations, and rigid adherence to his object, are deserving of our commendation rather than dispraise. But the critic's main assault on the third book is his attempted refutation of Locke's assertion " that general and universal belong not to the real existence of things, but are creatures and inventions of the understanding ; made by it for its own use, and con- cern only signs, whether words or ideas" (Book III. iii. 11. Ps. p. 231). He commences by declaring 149 "you see here the very foundation of Nominalism^' (Ps. p. 231) ; although Locke, by saying "they con- cern only signs, whether words or ideas,'' evidently leaves open the question between Nominalism and Conceptualism, which differ in the alternative they adopt. The critic however does not in this discus- sion distinguish Nominalism and Conceptualism ; and his objection to their doctrine is equally applicable to both, though verbally applied to Nominalism only. To see the futility of this attempted refutation of Nominalism, however, a few preliminary remarks are necessary. The reader is of course aware that there are two kinds of division. One is the division of an universal or logical whole into its subjective parts — the division, in simpler language, of a genus into its species j the other (also called partition) is the division of an inte- gral or physical whole into its integrant parts or por- tions. The division of Irishmen into Protestants and Catholics may serve as an example of the former ; that of Ireland into Ulster, Leinster, Munster, and Connaught as an example of the latter. Nothing can be more distinct than these two methods of division ; one remarkable difference being that in the first case the name of the whole may be predicated of each of the parts in the same sense, in the latter case it can- not ; for if it accidentally happens that the same name is applicable to the whole and one of the parts^ it will be found that it is not applied to the two in the same sense. For example, Dublin and Cork are the names of two Irish counties, and also of two cities situated within them, and therefore forming a part of them ; but then the names are not applied to the counties and the cities in the same sense, nor are they 150 applicable to the remaining parts ; as we could not say Kingstown is Dublin or Mallow is Cork. This distinction seems almost too obvious to insist upon ; yet, strange to say, it seems to have been overlooked by M. Cousin. He commences the inquiry by examining the general idea of " book," and determining that, apart from particular existing books, there is nothing which is neither this book or that book, but book in itself (Ps. p. 232). So far he is on the side of the Nomi- nalist or Conceptualist. " But," he asks, '' are there not other general ideas ? Let us examine. I perceive a body, and at the same moment my mind cannot but take it for granted that the body is in a certain par-, ticular 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 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 gene- ral idea of book ; that is, if the word space signifies nothing more than the word book. Let us consult the human mind, and the truth of internal 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 real existence" (the reader will observe that, though the critic has verbally ignored the Con- ceptualist doctrine, yet it is really rather against Conceptualism than Nominalism that he is arguing). " On the contrary, I ask if, when you speak of space in general, you do not add to this idea a belief in the reality of space? .... It is certain, that, when you 151 speak of space, you have the conviction that out of yourself there is something which is space ; and also, when you speak of time, you have the conviction that there is out of yourself something which is time, although you know neither the nature of time nor of space To the general idea of time and space is united the invincible conviction of the reality of something which is space and time Here is the root and ground of Realism " (Ps. pp. 232, 233). This discussion is then generalised as follows : — " The force of Realism lies in general ideas, which invincibly imply the external existence of their objects — these are, as you know, universal and necessary general ideas^' (Ps. p. 234). These "universal and necessary general ideas" (excepting space and time,) he does not, however, discuss, or even enumerate, in this place. They appear to be the other ideas we have already examined : infinity, substance, cause, identity, and perhaps, right and wrong; but I shall confine myself here to the ideas of space and time, discussed by M. Cousin in the passage before us, reserving the appli- cation of his theory of universals to the others, for the Appendix, in which I shall consider the justice of the charge of Pantheism, which has been urged against his philosophy, and with which the present subject has a very intimate connexion. To turn, then, to space and time, I will begin by asking a few questions like M. Cousin. I ask any man of common sense, whether space and time contain in them par- ticular spaces and times, in a manner analogous to that in which Irishmen contains Protestants and Catholics ? or whether they do not rather contain them in the same manner that Ireland contains Leinster and Connaught? I ask him if space and 152 time seem to him to be physical or logical wholes? I ask him if the very phrase, ''^ space in general^^^ does not seem awkward to him when it is put (as here) for " space infinite"; and whether, if he speaks of an " universal space", he does not rather mean a space which is everywhere — which includes the universe — than one which is universal in the logical sense ; that is, which may have species subordinated to it ? And, let me ask M. Cousin where are the species of this genus — this universal or general space ? What are their distinct names ? What are the differences by which they are marked off from each other ? Or is this general space a species infima, which has nothing subordinated to it but individual spaces ? But M. Cousin's own expressions prove most clearly that space and time are physical and not logical wholes, and that, therefore, they are not general ideas at all. " I ask," he says, " if you believe that there are with- out you nothing but particular spaces — that there is not an universal space, capable of embracing all pos- sible bodies — a space^ one and continuous^ of which different particular spaces are but arbitrary portions and measures" (Ps. pp. 232, 233) But what kind of whole is that which is " one and continuous " ? What kind of whole is that whose parts are ''''portions'^ and " measures " of it ? Or how does this universal space " embrace " bodies ? Is it by being predicable of them — by being their genus also ? Certainly not, except we make body a kind of space. But how does it " embrace " body ? Is it not by em- bracing or containing the space in which bodies are contained ? and if so — if this universal space con- tains particular spaces, and the bodies which occupy them, in the same manner, — it does not con- 153 tain these particular spaces in the same way that a general idea contains the ideas subordinated to it. M. Cousin seems to be somewhat sensible of the weakness of his argument here, for he deems it necessary to disprove that particular spaces and times are portions of space and time in the physical sense, before he can assert that space and time are general ideas to which particular spaces and times are lo- gically subordinate. But his proof rests on positive denial of infinity of number, which we met with already. " Different times " says he " and different spaces are not the constituent elements of space and time. Time and space are not solely for you, the col- lection of different times and different spaces ; but you believe that time and space are in themselves, that it is not two or three^^ (which must be taken to represent any finite number^ for this, together with the denial of an infinite number, is essential to the argu- ment) spaces, two or three ages which constitute space and time : for everything 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 in- finite without beginning and without end" (Ps. p. 233). A more infelicitous argument it would be impossible to urge. If it is the characteristic of space in gene- ral and time in general to be infinite, then particular spaces and particular times must be infinite also : for every idea that is subordinated to the general idea must contain all that is contained in it — which is no more than to say that the general name must be pre- dicable of it ; and this of course holds most strongly with the leading — the characteristic — portion of the general idea. Surely if these particular spaces and times be spaces and times at all — if they come under L 154 the general ideas of space and time — they must pos- sess all the marks of the general ideas. They must be universal — they must be capable of containing all possible bodies — they must be one and continuous-^ they must be arbitrary portions and measures of theii- selves — and lastly, they must be infinite. If they be not i-'o, then the terms space and time are not applied to them in the same sense as to the genera, but in senses as different as when Dublin or Cork is applied to a county and a city ; unless indeed the critic will say that the peculiarities of universal space and universal time are not implied in the names, which are used to connote only what is common to them and to particular spaces and times. This, indeed, is to make a general idea of space and time ; but an idea which has nothing really existing that corresponds to it ; for apart from individual spaces and times (among which we must now include universal space and univei^sal time), there will be no more some- thing, which is space in itself, or time in itself, than there was something which was book in itself. But that space and time, when put for universal space and universal time, cannot be predicated of particular spaces and times, is still more manifest from the passage immediately following that which I last quoted. It is this—" Time resolves itself into eternity, and space into immensity^' (Ps. p. 233), and surely we could not call what we have hitherto termed particular spaces and times, particular immensities and eternities. Nor are M. Cousin's previous accounts of these ideas of space and time a whit more consistent with his paradox that they are general ideas. " The idea of space," says he, " is given you as a continuous whole, in which you can very readily form useful and convenient 155 divisions, but at the same time artificial divisions, under which subsists the idea of space without limit ; For beyond any determinate portion of space there is space still, and beyond that space there is still space for ever and for evermore" (Ps. p. 133). "The divisions of time, like those of space, are purely artificial, and involve the supposition of an unity, an absolute continuity of time." . . . Before all finite time, and beyond all finite time, there is still time unlimited, infinite, inexhaustible" (Ps. p. 145). Let my reader attempt to apply such terms as those I have here italicised to any ^^n^mHdea, and I think he will soon be convinced of their unmeaningness and absur- dity. I think, therefore, I have sufficiently established that M. Cousin's refutation of Locke is founded on a confusion of logical division with physical division or partition, in the ideas of space and time ; ideas which (at least in M. Cousin's sense of them), are not general ideas at all, but ideas as individual as I or you. But before leaving the subject,Imay observe thatM. Cousin has elsewhere adopted the Realist theory of ideas in its fullest extent, almost repeating the language of Plato. The passage is too long to quote here, and the theory has been too frequently refuted by philoso- phers, since the time of Eoscelinus, to need any argu- ments from me, M. Cousin's statement of his doctrine will be found in Ps. pp. 545, 546.* " I conclude," says the critic, " with pointing out another proposition, or rather pretension, of Locke, ♦ r ought, perhaps, to add that, if M. Cousin is right in thinking these ideas of space and time general ideas, yet Locke has evidently not considered them as such, and therefore the passage before quoted, on which M. Cousin founds his criticism, was not intended to apply to them. 156 which it is important to reduce within just limits. Everywhere 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 about words— that science is nothing but a language, and of course, a language well formed is a science well constructed. I undertake," he continues, " to show the untruth of these exaggerated assertions " (Ps. p. 234, 235). I have already remarked that Locke is not to be con- founded with, or interpreted by, his so-called school, and in the second part of this work I shall have occasion to point out some very startling differences between Locke and his school, admitted by the critic himself. I may, therefore, set aside the identification of science with language which is not pretended to have been discovered in the Essay on the Human Understanding, and confine myself to the charge that Locke attributes to words the greatest part of our errors^ and that if we interpret him by his disciples, he held that all disputes were about words. Now the fact is, that M. Cousin has exactly transposed the tenets of Locke and his so-called disciples. Locke maintained that the greater part of disputes were about words ; his disciples, following Hobbes, main- tained that the same was true of all errors ; for the reader must observe that errors and disputes are very different things, and that it is the very characteristic of a verbal dispute that there may be no error^ that the parties may be quite agreed in opinion, and differ only in their use of the terms. In proof of this charge against Locke, M. Cousin gives the convenient refe- rence " everywhere'' I had almost responded to this with a '* nowhere''' ; but I find there is one section whose 157 title seems to bear out the critic's statement. Its con- tents, however, will shew that by " errors" Locke does not intend errors properly so-called, that is the reception of false propositions as true, so much as obscurity and confusion. The section runs thus, " Misuse of words the yreat cause of errors. For he that shall well con- sider the errors and obscurity, the mistakes and con- fusion, that are spread in the world by an ill use of words, will find some reason to doubt whether lan- guage, as it is employed, has contributed more to the improvement or hindrance of knowledge amongst mankind. How many are there that, when they would think on things, fix their thoughts only on words, especially when they would apply their minds to moral matters ! and who then can wonder if the result of such contemjdations and reasonings about little more than sounds, whilst the ideas annexed to them are very confused or very unsteady, or perhaps none at all ; who can wonder, I say, that such thoughts and reasonings end in nothing but obscurity and mis- take vhteout ANY CLEAR JUDGMENT OR KNOWLEDGE " (Book III. xi. 4) ; that is to say, without any intelli- gible proposition being distinctly assented to, which must be the case in every error properly so-called. It is almost needless to call my reader's attention to the next following section in which Locke says that words are not the fountains of knowledge, but the pij/es whereby it is distributed to the public use and advan- tage of mankind ; or to Book III. ix. 21, where he seems to admit that the imperfections attributed to words (which are the principal causes of the " errors " spoken of in the section just quoted) might with equal propriety be attributed to our 158 " want of knowledge and inability to penetrate into the real constitutions " of things, which is a defect chargeable, not upon words, but upon our understandings. Locke has fortunately set the question at rest, by attributing the greater part of errors to another and a very different cause — to wrong associations of ideas — which, he says, " gives sense to jargon, demonstration to absurdities, and consistency to nonsense, and is the foundation of the greatest^ I had almost said, of all the errors in the world " (Book II. xxxiii. 18). Locke, then, has not attributed to words the greatest part of our errors, and M. Cousin's refutation of this doctrine does not bear upon Locke at all. - That philosopher has, indeed, attributed to words the greatest part of our disputes; but this position the critic has not called in question, unless the following be intended for a refutation of it: " If you look more closely you will see that the greater part of the disputes, which seem to be about words, are at the bottom disputes about things." In proof of which somewhat questionable assertion he urges : " Humanity is too serious to be excited and often to shed its best blood for words. Wars do not turn on disputes about words ; and I say the same of other conflicts, theological and scientific contro- versies," &c. (Ps. p. 235); which would be a valid objection if these disputes about words were known to be so by the disputants, but not otherwise. This terminates M. Cousin's criticism on the third book of Locke, and completes my examination of the portion of his lectures included in the ordinary under- graduate course. I hope before very long to complete my examination, and to prove that the critic's mis- 159 representations of the fourth book of Locke are even more gross and flagrant than those I have hitherto exposed. The present work having been prepared for the press somewhat hastily, it is not impossible that it may contain some misquotations, both from Locke and M. Cousin ; but I am confident that these will not be found to alter the sense of the passages, nor will any argument be found to turn upon any words not found verbatim et literatim in the books before us. I am aware that in another point of view I may be accused of misquoting M. Cousin ; that is, in taking his doctrines not from his original work, but from the translation of Dr. Henry, which is known not to be very accurate. I have quoted this translation chiefly because it, and not the original work, is the text-book in this university. Were I to give a translation of my own (besides my want of qualification for the task), I would lie more open to the charge of unfair- ness ; and to quote the French of the original would be to make my book difiicult or unintelligible to many of those for whom it is intended. It was therefore necessary to have recourse to a translator, and in taking the translation of so ardent an admirer of M. Cousin as Dr. Henry, I will at least escape the charge of taking the French philosopher's system from a hostile source, where it was wilfully garbled and mis- represented. I must also add, that if I have quoted Dr. Webb's work chiefly for the purpose of opposing it, I have not done so with the view of depreciating perhaps the most valuable work yet published on the philosophy of Locke ; it is simply because of its extra- ordinary merit that I thought it advisable to call attention to the few mistakes which I think are to be 160 found in it; and how much I am indebted to the essay on the Intellectualism of Locke for the views here advocated, and the refutations here attempted, will be readily perceived by any one who studies the two works. How far these views are correct, and how far this refutation has been successful, I leave to the judgment of the impartial reader. END OF FIRST PART. ar 14 DAY USE RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED LOAN DEPT. 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